Poetry Topics - Clock Tipping
Tick tock, tock tick…cling clang, swish, swish…the sounds of a clock provide enough rhythm to create your verse…however, the slowly moving hands and the rapidly flying times add another dimension to the simple yet somewhat necessary device.
If a watch pot never boils, does a watched clock lose time? Think of the moments when the hands seemed to hold still. Think about the moments when the second hand beat, beat, beat its incessant sound into your mind and began to impact your spiritual well being. When were those moments? Did the clock succeed in wearing you down? Or, did it help you move along quicker?
Connect to the emotion it brings. Remember poems are simple, but have all the power of a story in a little, tiny space. Post it here, or share elsewhere, but write and enjoy…
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Oct 7th, 2008 at 9:48 am
TIME,CLOAKS
The old, tired clock ticks on and tries, in vain, to splinter the present with its two arms. Why do dead clocks fascinate me? I think they are stuck in stark truth, more than any thing else and they seem to read your mind and remain in rapport with you. They make you piece together bits of your traumatized being and make you at peace with existence; its conceptual design seeping in to your micro consciousness, stilling everything that disturbs the identity, with the motionless truth .The ever fluttering mind is shocked and stilled for an abrupt [moment?], before relapsing to its tremulous nature .The idea of time, cloaks the truth, more than any thing else, commemorating illusion.